


Caught in the Past

by Aulyk, The67ImpalaDragonChild



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jackals are too cute, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Post NATM2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Museum, Torture, protective larry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aulyk/pseuds/Aulyk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The67ImpalaDragonChild/pseuds/The67ImpalaDragonChild
Summary: After the Battle at the Smithonian, Larry Daley discovers something is wrong with Ahkmenrah. But before he can help his young friend, the Pharaoh is kidnapped by some new, but old enemies. Wounds are reopened, and the Museum will learn something they never expected about Pharaoh Ahkmenrah.





	1. Whispers In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, so bear with me here. English is not my first language, so don't be surprised by some weird sentence that probably got lost in translation.  
> I have a dark mind, you have been warned :)
> 
> The first chapter is short, just an intro, to see if I should continue.  
> Leave a comment if you liked it, and I'll continue
> 
> I do not own the characters, just the plot
> 
> EDIT: Hi! I'm taking over the care and feeding of this darling! Hopefully I'll have something new for you soon! I ALSO have a dark mind, and our dear Aulyk has specifically requested I be mean to everyone's favorite pharaoh. So... :D This is going to be fun!

They threw a party.

Honestly, it was becoming a museum tradition at this point. And after the whole debacle at the Smithsonian, they deserved it. The entrance hall was alive with ‘feasting and merriment’ as Octavius had put it. 

Watching his son dance with the huns, Dexter perched on his shoulders, Larry honestly couldn’t think of a better description. All around him, this weird little surrogate family he had found were dancing, laughing, singing. Having the time of their lives, and overjoyed to have their friends back in midst safe and sound. Everyone was accounted for. The numerous flyers for the Egyptian exhibit caught his eye.

Larry frowned.

Almost everyone. He turned away from his desk, turned open bar. He hadn’t seen Ahkmenrah since the start of the party. And the young pharaoh had seemed distant. Almost… brittle. Something was up, and Larry was going to get to the bottom of it. 

He made his way through the revelers. A whole room full of Huns, Miniatures, Soldiers, Rexy, Teddy and his beloved Sacagawea, and others later, and he  _ still _ couldn't find their Egyptian friend. He frowned, wondering why Ahkmenrah would’ve feld the need to leave. He should be here, enjoying the party with the rest of them. Larry spotted Teddy on the other side of the room and waded through the crowd. The former president was 'dancing' with Sacagawea. At least, Larry was pretty sure that’s what Teddy was  _ attempting _ . But he wasn’t sure he was  _ succeeding _ . Bless her heart, but Sacagawea was making a masterful attempt not to laugh at him.

"Hey, Teddy!" he called out, loud enough to be heard over the Rock music. 

Theodore Roosevelt turned and smiled at the Night Guard. "Lawrence! Great gathering isn't it?"

Larry cut to the chase. "Have you seen Akhmenrah? I haven’t seen him since the start."

Teddy quickly scanned the dance floor.

"I have not. Is there a problem, son?" he answered, tensing.

"No, no! Just wondering. Go back to your...uh...dancing." Larry waved away Teddy’s worry. He was probably overreacting. No need to spoil everyone’s night without a legitimate reason.

Teddy visibly relaxed. “Alright. But come and find me if that changes?” 

The Guard nodded. Shaking his head at his friend’s so called ‘dancing’ skills, he let himself be swept back into the crowd. There were others he could ask. For as small as they were, it was ridiculously easy to find Jedediah and Octavius. The miniatures had tables all to themselves for eating, dancing, and various other party activities. It was safer for everyone if they were up off the floor. Jedediah and Octavius were manfully attempting to concur a piece of pizza between them. Larry highly doubted it would happen, but then, they both had plenty of cowboys and legionnaires to help if the job proved to be to much for even  _ their _ appetites.

"Hi, guys! Everything ok here?" asked Larry, smiling.

"Heck yeah!" Jed hollered over the music, a mouthful of pizza scrambling his speech. "Mmm! These pizzas are gosh darned good, Gigantor!"

"I agree with Jedediah." piped in Octavius.

"Good, good." Larry fidgeted with the flashlight on his belt. Ahkmenrah’s disappearance was eating at him and he couldn’t explain why. "Tell me, have you seen Ahkmenrah anywhere lately?”

Jed bobbed his head, cramming in another bite of pizza. "Mm-yep! I saw him mosey on off toward his Tomb. Probably went home for the night. Poor guy seemed tired. It’s a crying shame, he's missing out!"

Larry’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. That was a surprise. It wasn't like Ahk to just retire like that, in the middle of a party. He liked to dance, and he was usually one of the last ones standing. Larry could never decide if he was tied more strongly to the tablet or if it was because he was essentially an immortal teenager. An exceptionally responsible immortal teenager, but a teenager nonetheless. Usually he’d at least  _ tell _ someone if he had to step out. This definitely wasn’t like him.

"Uh. When was that?" he asked the two miniatures.

The two small warriors looked at each other. Jed shrugged. 

Octavius shrugged right back, but dutifully answered Larry’s question anyway. "I would estimated perhaps a half hour, but little more than that."

The Guard nodded, his thoughts in a whirl.

"Is that all, my Liege?" asked the Roman general.

"Mm? Yes yes, back at it guys." Larry with a forced smile and stepped away. 

They weren’t as easily pacified as Teddy had been. But they trusted him. The two friends, went back to their epic battle against the monstrous pizza slice. But they kept shooting questioning glances after him.

Larry skirted the dance floor and made his way towards the Egyptian Department. The thick walls of the old building slowly muffled the sounds of the party. Finally, the music and voices fell away into total silence. Nothing stirred. Nothing breathed. When he had first taken the job as a night watchman for the museum, this was what he had pictured. He had thought it would be peaceful.

Now he just found the silence unnerving.

A soft noise sounded from down the hall. The entrance of the Tomb slowly emerged from the gloom. McPhee thought the dimmer lights added to the overall atmosphere of the place. Larry took a great deal of pleasure in the fact that Ahkmenrah thought McPhee was a moron.

That soft sound came again, a little louder this time ...a sob? Larry frowned and walked even faster.

Now he could hear the noise clearly. Someone was crying. Deep, heart-wrenching sobs. The kind of sob that crawls up from the deepest depths of your soul and drags everything dark and painful along with it. 

It wasn’t a sound Larry had ever wanted to hear, especially from someone he cared about. Something was definitely wrong. 

The Anubis statues didn’t so much as twitch when he approached the gate. Another surprise. They’d come to grudgingly tolerate him, but they always made sure he knew they’d drop him in a heartbeat if he threatened their pharaoh. Tonight they didn’t even blink. Nothing. 

The Guard stepped into the dark Tomb.

"Ahk?" he called out softly. No response. Just those heart wrenching sobs. Larry stepped forward and called out again, louder. "Ahkmenrah? It's me, Larry!"

The sobs cut off abruptly. Silence reigned supreme. Larry waited, hoping that the pharaoh would answer. Seconds trickled by without so much as a whisper. Larry opened his mouth, ready to call out for his young friend again.

"Go away, Larry Daley." Ahkmenrah’s voice was shaky and raw. It echoed strangely in the heavy stone chamber. But there were only so many places a person could hide. A tiny corner of gold and red cloth peeking out from behind the sarcophagus narrowed that list down to one. 

Larry edged around the end of the sarcophagus. 

The young pharaoh was sitting on the cold stone floor, legs drawn up to his chest. Nearby, his golden crown lay discarded. Haphazardly dropped like a run of the mill hat. His head was buried in his arms, shoulders shaking. Muffled sobs slipped past the makeshift barrier, despite his best attempts. 

It was a far cry from the usually proud King Larry had come to know.

"Ahk,” Larry breathed, shocked by the change in his friend. “What's going on..? Are you alright?”

The young pharaoh’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice. Teary eyes were hard and angry. He bared his teeth in a snarl. "I SAID GO AWAY!" 

The command might have had more weight if it weren’t for the fresh wave of tears. Tremors wracked his frame as he tried and failed to hold onto his composure. Tried, and failed, to behave with the strength and decorum expected of a king. He tried. And he failed. The tremors grew stronger, and a strangled sob escaped him. He hid his face in his hands, trying to hide the fresh tears on an already tearstained face.

There was a time when Larry would’ve been scared. Terrified even. Those days were long gone. Instead, all he felt was an urge to soothe and protect. He sat down next to his friend, and slipped an arm around the 'younger' man's shoulders. 

Ahkmenrah flinched away from the touch, choking on a whimper. 

Larry paused. What had happened to bring around this sort of drastic change in his friend?

"Ahk, tell me what's wrong?"

The gentle question only seemed to make it worse. The pharaoh's head remained hidden in his lap, still shaking with choked sobs. Larry sighed. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. He cupped the young King's chin, forcing his head up.

"Ahkmenrah," he commanded "tell me what happened." The Pharaoh visibly tensed at the tone, and Larry continued softer, " _ Please _ . I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Silence stretched thin and tenuous between them. 

Ahkmenrah opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He looked away, eyes closed tight against the tears. The hand cradling his face ensured he didn’t get far.

Larry ran his thumb over his friend’s cheek. Soothing, and wiping away his tears. "Look at me. Hey. It's alright." He engulfed the Pharaoh in a full hug. "It's going to be ok. Ssshh, don't cry." he soothed, voice soft like he would if this were his own son.

Ahkmenrah stiffened. 

He shoved Larry away, almost violent in his need to _get_ _ away _ . 

In his head, a very different voice whispered those same words in a soft, sibilant voice. Over and over again, on a loop in his head.  _ Sssshh, don't cry...  _ it whispered.  _ Sssshh, don’t cry… _

He could’ve gone his whole life without ever hearing that voice again. 

Wide eyed, panting, the Pharaoh scrambled backwards. Images were creeping back into his head, drawn along by the all too clearly remembered voice. He clutched his head in his shaking hands, whimpering. Silently begging the gods for relief from this hell of another’s devising. 

_ Please,  _ please _ , make it stop! _

Larry sat where he’d been shoved at the foot of the sarcophagus, startled by the sudden aggression. He slowly stood, afraid to startle his friend into hurting himself. He stared, wide-eyed at the panicking living exhibit, trying to think of something he could do.

Ahkmenrah's back hit the opposite wall hard as he started to mutter the word 'no' over and over again. The ornate collar around his neck clicked against the stone. The sound jarred Larry out of his paralysis. He reached for him again, calling his name. The young Pharaoh pushed himself further into the wall, as if he was attempting to merge with it.

"Ahk, how can I he-"

Ahkmenrah screamed at him, face twisted into some horrible mockery of his usual expression. The language wasn’t anything that Larry was familiar with. Ancient Egyptian? Or was that Coptic? He couldn’t remember. But it scared him. Ahkmenrah knew a  _ lot _ of languages, but he  _ never _ mixed them. For him to have lapsed completely into another langauge…

Rough, massive hands grabbed Larry up by the arms and uniform. The jackals! 

"No! Wait! Ahk! Tell them to put me down!" 

The pharaoh didn’t seem to hear him. He’d slid back down to the cold stone floor again and was curled up into the smallest tightest ball he could manage. 

"Ahkmenrah!" Larry tried again. 

Nothing. 

The jackals bodily hurled him out of the tomb. Larry supposed he should be grateful they’d thrown him out, rather than just skewered him like they were always threatening to. He landed on the hard floor across the hall from the gates, groaning. He was going to be feeling that impact on his ribs and hip for  _ days _ . He was sure of it. Larry rolled over, craning his neck to try and see back the way he’d come. The jackals were shutting the door of the tomb. Their pharaoh had reached his limit for the night, and could take no more. Larry could just see him beyond their legs. The shaking pharaoh lay on the floor, his robes pooled around him in ripples of red and gold cloth. The doors made a soft ‘boom’, and the hall fell once more into unnatural silence..

Larry stared at those heavy doors. They were only supposed to be ornamental, but like so much else in the museum, things were different at night. 

He shook his head, bewildered by the strange turn of events. 

"What happened?" He whispered.

The silent hall offered no answers.


	2. Pharaoh's Tomb

* * *

The doors were mocking him.

Larry sat against the wall opposite the sealed tomb, just listening. Hoping that maybe Ahkmenrah would let him back in. But it had been hours. And those doors hadn’t opened, much to Larry’s dismay and increasing worry. 

A soft chime arose from his wristwatch. 

Sunrise. 

Oh god, sunrise! And he hadn’t checked in on the party to make sure everything was cleaned up! If McPhee came in and found the museum entranceway destroyed…!

Larry raced back through the halls towards the main room, expecting the place to be a complete mess. Much to his surprise, the lobby was in  _ perfect _ working order. He blinked. Rubbed his eyes and looked again. It still looked pristine. There wasn’t so much as a  _ crumb _ on the floor, so far as he could tell. Granted, he was on the balcony. But the early morning sunlight streaming in through the front windows was pretty bright. 

Larry breathed a sigh of relief.

He probably had Teddy to thank for that. He’d have to do something nice for the former president the next chance he got. 

Now, where was Nicky…?

He scanned the lobby thoughtfully, then trotted down the stairs. He hadn’t been able to see Nick from the balcony. But that wasn’t surprising. Technically Nick wasn’t supposed to be here, so he’d be careful to make sure he was out of sight incase McPhee or the day shifters arrived early. Nick also liked smaller spaces so…

He peeked under the desk. 

Nicky was fast asleep on the floor under the desk. His dark hair was tousled, and he had his backpack under his head like a pillow. Larry smiled. His son looked so peaceful and content. Honestly, no matter how old Nick got, Larry was convinced that  _ that _ would  _ never _ get old. He slipped off his guard jacket and laid it over the sleeping boy. Nicky could sleep for a few more minutes while he took stock and made sure everything was in order. 

A little piece of paper, stapled to the calendar, caught his eye.

 

_ 'Lawrence, as we could not find you last night, my dear Sacagawea and myself took it upon ourselves to put everything and everyone back in order. You will have some explaining to do tonight, son. -Theodore R.' _

 

So it  _ was _ Teddy. He definitely owed him and Sacagawea big time for this.

Larry sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He knew he had to tell Teddy about what had happened with Ahkmenrah. But knowing something was necessary didn’t  exactly make it any easier. 

No use in worrying though.

Larry woke up his slumbering son. The two did one last sweep of the whole museum, Nick still wrapped in his dad’s coat, and went on about their day. Which started with delivering Nicky back to his mother. She was  _ not _ happy to hear how late their son had stayed up. Larry took his chance to escape while she was putting Nick to bed.

For his part, Larry spent the majority of his day catching up on sleep. 

Night fell far quicker than he would have liked it to for once. Larry stared out his window at the sunset. He wasn’t sure what was waiting for him at the museum that night. He never was really, the exhibits had a habit of keeping him on his toes. But the thought of going into the egyptian exhibit and facing Ahkmenrah again filled him with a sense of foreboding. There was something seriously wrong there. And he didn’t know how to fix it. 

Larry shook himself free of his thoughts and gathered up his things. He wouldn’t fix anything standing around his apartment. 

He tossed everything he might need into a bag, and left for another night refereeing the occupants of New York's Museum of Natural History.

* * *

 

 

So far so good.

Larry locked up, settled down, and waited for the Museum to come to life. He was only half paying attention though. The events of the previous night had him lost in thought. 

The light began to fade.

Larry glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes left. Well… might as well go bite the bullet. He rose and marched to the Egyptian Department. If his steps were just a little bit more reluctant… well, no one was awake to see or judge. Larry unlocked the tomb's gate. It was a bit more difficult than usual. In their haste to protect their king the jackals had damaged it a little the previous night.

_ Thank God the Museum was closed today, or McPhee would have lost his shit. _ Larry thought.  _ Hmm, we'll have to get that fixed before tomorrow. I'll ask Columbus for help. Well... I'll try to at least'  _ he snorted at the last. The language barrier was still something of a… well, barrier.

He slipped through the gates, the events of the previous night running through his mind like runaway horses. Larry huffed a sigh. He would get answers tonight. He had too. 

The sarcophagus was already unlocked. 

Strange. He could have sworn he told Nicky to lock it this morning. McPhee would’ve gone absolutely apeshit if he’d found the sarcophagus unlocked. Larry would’ve taken care of it himself, but he had to clean up after the cavemen. Sometime during the night they had apparently managed to get ahold of the fire extinguisher. 

Again. 

Teddy and Sacagawea must have missed it when they spearheaded the cleanup. Given the shear amount of cleanup that was probably necessary after the party, and the fact that it wasn’t even their job, they were deffinitely off the hook for this one. Besides, it was the only thing they’d missed. His lips twitched. He’d gotten  _ very _ good at cleaning up extinguisher discharge since he started working here. 

Was that something that would look good on a resume? 

...Probably not. 

Larry paused. “Wait… How could Nicky have opened the gate? He’s a kid and I just had to  _ pry _ it open.”

Something wasn’t right. His phone was out of his pocket before he’d even really thought about it, his son’s speed dial already on screen. Pressing it to his ear, Larry waited impatiently for Nicky to pick up.He glanced at his watch. Seven minutes till the tablet woke everyone up.

“Dad?” Nick finally answered after a long two rings.

“Hi, Nicky. Quick question; did you seal Ahk's sarcophagus last night, I mean, this morning?”

There was a world of confusion in Nick’s voice. “...Yeah, why?”

Larry scrubbed a hand through his hair. “And um, how did you manage that? I had to put some effort into it just to budge the door an inch.”

“I didn't.” 

“You didn’t? What you’re Superman now?” Larry smiled at his son’s snickering quip about having a 'red cape and everything'. “Ok, ok. How did you lock the box then?”

“Dad, I slipped through, obviously. The door was all dented in and stuff. It made it really easy.” Nicky’s amusement was leaking through the phone and Larry couldn’t help but smile. “Seriously, if you can get your head through, the rest of your body should fit too. And that dent made a pretty big hole.”

Larry turned around to glance at the gate, and face-palmed. Right.

“Ok then. Was just a little confused. Thanks for clearing that up for me. See you this weekend. Say ‘hi’ to your mom and Don for me.”

“Yup! Say ‘hi’ to everyone for me!”

“I’ll do that buddy. Goodnight.”

“ ‘night Dad. Have fun!”

Larry snorted and ended the call. Yeah,  _ fun _ . All night every night here at the Museum of Natural history. So that settled that. But-

'Wait..' he thought 'since Nicky  _ did _ seal the sarcophagus, then why is it opened..'

Three minutes left.

Larry opened the sarcophagus slowly, his gut telling him something was wrong. The usual cloud of dust puffed up, filling his eyes and stuffing his mouth and nose. He coughed, rubbing at his eyes till his vision cleared.

“FUCK!”

The sarcophagus was empty. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” Larry bit off the swears. He looked around, hoping stupidly that the ancient exhibit was just laying around somewhere. Fat chance, but he could dream right?

Right.

He gave up on that idea and raced for the lobby. He could faintly hear the familiar roar of Rexy over his thundering heart.

Awake then.

Good.

He slid sideways into the lobby, and bolted straight for Teddy. The former president seemed to have only just woken up. He murmured fondly to his horse, patting the animal’s powerful neck. 

“Teddy!” 

The panic was a little more evident in his voice than he’d have liked. Teddy’s head snapped up. Seeing the nightgaurd flying pell mell across the lobby, he clicked his tongue and set the horse to meet Larry halfway. 

“Laurence? What’s happened?”

“It's Ahkmenrah! He's gone!” Larry panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Maybe sprinting hadn’t been the best idea.

Teddy’s eyes widened. “What? What do you mean he’s gone?”

Larry gestured back the way he’d come. “He's not in his sarcophagus!”

“Then we’d best find him, and quickly. Climb aboard son. We’ll see what the jackals have to say. If they don’t have any ideas, we’ll reach out to the rest of the exhibits. Come!” He kicked his foot out of the stirrup and held out a hand. Larry had long since learned how to mount and ride double on a horse. He grabbed Teddy’s hand and stepped into the stirrup. A pull and a swing of the leg and he was up behind the saddle. A click of the tongue and a nudge of the knee from Teddy and they were off.

They galloped through the halls, the click of horseshoes, the creak of saddle leather, and the heavy breaths of their mount the only noise in the near silent Egyptian Department. At the tomb, Teddy helped Larry swing down. The former president made a beeline to the empty sarcophagus, as if maybe the mummy was curled up in a dusty shadowed corner and Larry had missed it. The jackals watched it all with wary eyes, gripping their spears worriedly.

Larry gestured helplessly. “Guys!  _ Where _ is your king?”

The two jackals glanced at each other, and hung their heads in shame.

“So you don't know?” 

The jackals hunched their shoulders and ducked their heads further down.

“Shit.” 

“Watch your language.” Teddy muttered absently, still looking for any clues to the missing pharoah . “We'll find him..we'll get him back. For all we know it might be nothing. Maybe McPhee had our friend moved off site for maintenance.” He was trying to reassure the two Anubis statues, but the hesitation in his voice said he wasn’t as confident of that assessment as he wanted to be. 

The two jackal headed statues seemed to take heart from it though. 

Teddy frowned, running his hand along the side of the empty sarcophagus. It was possible that Ahkmenrah had been moved, but that didn’t seem quite right. Usually when an exhibit was temporarily removed a sign was placed stating where it had gone and why, with a assurance that it would return soon. There was no sign here. His eyes wandered, and Teddy suddenly stiffened. 

“Lawrence,” he called. “you should see this...”

Larry spun around. Teddy had left the sarcophagus, and was leaning in to examine the tablet of Ahkmenrah. He trotted over to see what had caught the former president’s attention.

“Teddy?”

Teddy pointed to the bottom right corner of the Tablet. 

Larry squinted. And promptly cursed a blue streak. Twice. Teddy didn’t comment on the language this time. Seemed he wholeheartedly agreed. 

There on the tablet of Ahkmenrah, a tablet that was made of solid gold and was supposedly thousand years old and  _ magic _ besides… on the tablet of Ahkmenrah was written in very small letters:  _ Made in China _

“Oh my God! Who even  _ makes _ these kind of replicas?!” groaned Larry.

“Well evidently the Chine-” started Teddy.

Larry held up a hand. “Don't. Just ...don't.”


	3. Empty Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you like it :)

* * *

“Great! Fantastic! So what do we do now!?” yelled Larry “Both Ahkmenrah  _ and _ his tablet are missing! They’re god only knows where! And now we...Wait, how are you even still  _ moving _ ?!”

“We must stay calm, Lawrence. Take a deep breath.” instructed Teddy, his own calmness somewhat forced.

Larry glared, more that ready to argue the point. How could Teddy expect him to be calm at a time like this? But the stern look the former president gave him encouraged him to reconsider. He obeyed and slowly breathed in and out. Waiting for his heart rate to slow back down.

Teddy took this as his cue to continue. “I don’t know how I or the others are still alive sans the tablet present, but there are a great many things we don’t know about the tablet itself. All we can do is try to find its owner.” he paused as Larry nodded “Was there anything out of the ordinary recently?”

“Besides the whole Smithsonian debacle?” Larry asked dryly. Teddy gave him a look, and Larry sighed. “Actually? Yeah, I was going to tell you about it. Remember last night at the party? And I asked you it you’d seen Ahk? Well, something wasn’t sitting right and…” He quickly summarized the events of the night before, gesturing helplessly as he got to the end. “...and then the Anubis statues tossed me out in the hall and slammed the doors. And the doors stayed closed for the rest of the night. That’s why I wasn’t there to supervise cleanup. Thanks for that by the way. You and Sacagawea are lifesavers.”

Teddy's lips twitched in amusement. “You’re quite welcome Laurence.” He sighed. “You have no idea as to the cause of our friend’s upset?

Larry raked a hand through his hair. “No... I mean, maybe? After what happened at the Smithsonian, with his brother... Do you think maybe, I don't know, it stirred something up? Old memories? I mean, we did kind of put his brother in some kind of eternal egyptian hell you know. His brother’s ten types of crazy asshole, but he’s still his brother?

“Possible, certainly, but I feel there is more at play. If it were simply memories, he would have been more willing to talk to you. He trusts you more than any of us I think. At the very least he would’ve told you it was in the past. Even if he didn’t say what ‘it’ was. But the fact that he recoiled from you.  _ That _ concerns me. You have never harmed him, and he has no reason to fear you.” He gathered up his horse’s reins and the two slowly made their way back towards the lobby. “No I fear there is something far more sinister at work here. We must find Ahkmenrah, and quickly.”

“Agreed. But how? Because we have exactly zero clues. If you’ve got a better plan than asking  _ each and every single exhibit in here _ , I’m all ears.”

“Laurence…”

Above their heads, the PA system kicked on with an audible click.

“ _Yo! Gigantor!_ ” Jedediah’s voice hollered, “ _There's someone here on the phone for you. They say it's from, uh… Damnit, Ock what did that snippy fella say his name was? ...'Mr. China'? What the sam-hill kinda name is that?_ ”

Larry and Teddy gave each other a wide eyed glance. ‘Mr. China’. As in ‘made in China’. It had to be. Who else would be calling the museum after closing time with such a bogus name. 

“Guess we’re getting answers.” Larry took off at a run, Teddy right behind him. Teddy’s horse could run faster, but they were almost there anyway. It’d honestly take more time to get on and off the horse than to run that last little distance to reach the lobby.

Sacagawea and Atilla were already at the reception desk, Dexter perched on Atilla’s shoulder. There was a little crowd of cowboys and romans gathered around the phone. Apparently they’d all worked together to tip it out of it’s cradle and answer it. 

Larry snatched it up, mindful not to smack one of the miniatures. Seeing all the curious and anxious gazes around him, he put it on speakerphone.

“Who is this and what did you do with Ahkmenrah?” Larry snarled. “I swear to god, if you-”

“Now, now, calm down Mr. Daley.” A sibilant male voice cut him off. Oily and smooth, it made Larry’s skin crawl. “There is no need to get angry. Everything will be explained in due time, if you simply follow my instructions.” The man's tone sounded far too pompous and smug for Larry's taste. And it made him wary. No one was that smug unless they were pretty sure they were one up on everyone else.

“Why should I?”

The man chuckled. “Put simply: You'll do as I say if you want to see the tablet again.” he paused, his chuckles overtaking him again, “And the young pharaoh here.”

Attila growled something in Hunnic. Sacagawea put a hand on his arm, her face grim. She didn’t understand what was happening, but the threat to her friend was real. Now was not the time to speak. Now was the time to listen, and to look for weaknesses. Larry glanced at the others nervously. He could ask for proof that this bastard was on the level, but honestly, what was the point? ‘Mr. China’ just  _ happened _ to call on the same night that Ahkmenrah and his tablet went missing? Yeah, no.

“What do you want me to do?” the guard growled.

“Good, Mr. Daley. Very good.” the smile in his voice was almost palpable, and it set their teeth on edge. “Now, Mr. Daley, if you and your ragtag little group of exhibits would be so kind as to join me in the theater room we can get started immediately.” 

The call ended with an abrupt  _ click _ .

For a few precious seconds, silence reigned.

Jedediah looked from one face to another, then shrugged. “Ok, I'm gonna ask it: WHAT THE HECK IS GOIN' ON HERE?!”

Attila spluttered and started talking a mile a minute, Dexter chattering over the top of him. 

“Enough!” Teddy barked. Both fell silent, and he gestured towards the hall. “Now, as you can probably a guess a great deal has already happened tonight. And our dear friend Ahkmenrah appears to be in trouble. We’re all going to go to the theater room, and Laurence and I will explain as best we can on the way.”

Like a flock of ducklings, the exhibits followed Larry and Teddy down the hall, the miniatures riding on hats, shoulders, and in pockets. As they passed various rooms and exhibits, Larry quickly recounted the events of the evening. He purposely omitted Ahkmenrah’s apparent breakdown the night before. He’d already violated the pharaoh's privacy a little by telling Teddy. He didn’t want to make it worse by telling the others until he had a better idea of what was going on, and if telling them would even help. 

He finished the recap in record time.

Attila muttered something that gave the distinct impression of being an expletive. On his shoulder with a pair of miniature romans at his feet Dexter made an anxious noise. The miniatures muttered quietly amongst themselves. Out of the corner of his eye, Larry saw Sacagawea reach for Teddy’s hand. 

Apparently he wasn’t the only one getting a bad feeling about this.

The ‘theater room’ was aptly named, but not frequently used. Each Wednesday visitors to the museum were invited in to watch short documentary movies about dinosaurs, whales, historical events, the solar system or any number of other things. Occasionally groups would rent the room out for presentations. The rest of the time the heavy old doors were closed and locked.

Those old oak doors were still locked. Larry fumbled for the right key.

Octavius lifted his chin grimly, hand on his sword hilt. “Let us see what this spineless swine wants.”

The room beyond the locked doors was dark and still. They entered slowly, warily. Who knew what the mysterious caller, and possibly kidnapper, wanted? On stage, the massive movie screen suddenly flickered to life. It displayed the face and upper body of a strange man. He was mousy in appearance. A bookish looking individual, about forty years old. His short messy hair was silvered. And dark, shrewd eyes peered at them from behind black rimmed glasses. 

He was utterly ordinary. Had Larry encountered this man in any other situation, he wasn’t sure he would’ve given him a second glance. 

The man gave them a smile. He’d probably intended it to be cheerful, but it seemed malevolent to is audience. “Hello. Do sit down, please.”

No one moved an inch. 

Larry had to suppress a smile. This man had _no_ _idea_ how stubborn these exhibits could be. If he thought they were going to meekly follow the orders of a guy that wasn’t even in the room, he had another think coming!

Anger flashed across the man’s dour features. The cheerful demeanor disappeared, and in its place was something cold and threatening. “You misunderstand. That was not a suggestion. Sit. DOWN. Or your dear…  _ ‘friend’ _ will suffer the consequences.”

Gritting his teeth, Larry motioned the others to sit down in the middle row. They clearly didn’t want to. But, it was for Ahk. The exhibits grudgingly trooped into the theater seating. The man's face morphed back into his previous cheerful mood. Having seen the mask stripped away once, the effect was all the more disturbing. 

Larry could practically  _ smell _ the crazy on the guy. 

The man cleared his throat dramatically, as if he didn’t already have their attention. “Allow me to introduce myself; I'm Doctor hennigson. Until very recently, I was in the employ of a mutual friend of ours... Kahmunrah.”

Dexter made an angry shriek.

Atilla seemed to share the sentiment, snarling up at the screen. Sacagawea’s lips thinned, and she tightened her grip on Teddy’s hand. 

In Larry’s breast pocket, Octavius and Jedediah were both in a state of outrage. Larry folded his arms, lightly laying a finger across their legs inside the pocket. Thankfully, Octavius at least seemed to catch the tacit warning and hurriedly clapped a hand over Jedediah’s mouth. 

Larry arched an eyebrow. “And? He's gone. Banished to egyptian hell or whatever. Sorry you have to update your resume, but it was kind of inevitable. The guy was nuts.”  _ Kinda like you _ , he wanted to add.

The man, Dr. Hennigsson, smiled viciously.“Which brings us to the point of this little escapade;” he continued. “You see, Mr. Daley, I work for a society so old we cannot be exactly sure when it started. Around four thousand years ago at least, around the time of Pharaoh Kahmunrah. Yes,  _ Pharaoh _ . As it  _ should _ have been! With the tablet he was suppose to rule the world, with me, and the brotherhood consequently, at his side. But no, you  _ idiots _ had to go and ruin everything!”

In Larry’s breast pocket, Jedediah finally got Octavius’s hand off his mouth. The cowboy snorted. “Well  _ yeah _ ! Couldn't let a bunch of ugly buzzards run amuck now, could we?” Thankfully, he didn’t say it at the top of his lungs. But it was still loud enough that his fellow exhibits could hear it. Octavius and Attila snickered, even Teddy and Sacagawea smiled a little.

Larry sighed in exasperation.

Hennigson peered at them suspiciously. Apparently there was nothing wrong with his hearing. “I’m not sure which of you said that. And I don’t particularly care. We’ll see how funny you find this.” The doctor backed away from the camera. 

Larry froze in his seat, the smiles slipping away from his friends’ faces.

There, suspended by his wrists with iron chains, was Ahkmenrah. The unconscious pharaoh was on his knees, his head lolling forward like a rag doll’s. His arms were spread painfully above in head, the chains biting into his flesh.

“Let him go, you bastard!” Larry yelled, horrified at the sight.

Hennigsson seemed more amused by the outburst than anything else. “No I don’t think I will, Mr. Daley. Not yet anyway. I might  _ consider _ giving him back to you. Depending on your behavior, I might even throw in the tablet. I’ll likely have no  _ real _ need for it outside of tonight. And even if I do, it’s not like I won’t know where to find it. The security measures here are  _ particularly _ lacking.” he paused, “The rules of the game are simple, Mr. Daley. I wish to tell you a story. You and your friends. You will not interrupt me. If, at the end of my story, I have found you to be a particularly attentive audience I will consider returning Ahkmenrah and the tablet. Do we have an accord?”

Larry gritted his teeth. He wanted to say no. To yell _‘hell_ _no’_ right in this smug bastard’s face. But he’d seen behind that suspiciously benign mask. There was no telling what this man would do to Ahkmenrah if they refused. Not to mention the danger to the rest of the museum if the tablet wasn’t returned. 

The others were all watching him, the same thoughts flashing through their eyes. Waiting for him to make the call. Knowing that they had no choice. They had to play the game.

Larry nodded at the screen. “Deal.”

He was just praying he hadn’t signed Ahkmenrah’s death warrant.

Hennigsson grinned, his voice picking up in his excitement. “Excellent! So as I was saying before: you took our Pharaoh, thus I took yours.” He smirked at his audience’s sudden tension. “But I'll be lenient. You didn't exactly  _ kill _ him per say, just banished him to ‘egyptian hell’ as you put it. It wouldn’t be fair to kill yours. But still, a reckoning  _ is _ owed. And everyone knows the best hells are those of your own making.” He smirked. “I do believe I am going to have quite a bit of  _ fun _ showing you this child’s private hell.”

Hennigson retreated to a nearby shelf, humming cheerfully. The old metal shelf contained a mishmash of random things including, much to everyone's surprise, the Tablet itself. He picked up a small green vial, then returned to the young pharaoh's unconscious form. 

The group shifted and looked at each other nervously, unsure what might be in the vial and wanting as far away from their friend at possible. 

The doctor gave them a wicked grin and waved the uncorked vial under Ahkmenrah's nose. 

Ahkmenrah came awake with a sharp gasp and immediately pulled at his chains.

They clinked and clattered in the still room, and his eyes flashed.

“Who dares restrain the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah, fourth King of the fourth King, ruler of mighty Egypt!” he snarled. His furious eyes met Hennigson’s gaze, and he glared coldly back. 

The museum inhabitants shivered. To them, more often than not Ahkmenrah was the happy young man who danced them all into the floor at parties. He was their friend. Always ready with a smile or a laugh. This darkly furious pharaoh was alien to them. It was a stark reminder that, for all that he was young, that he had once been ruler over an entire kingdom. A king who had likely had to display ruthlessness, violence and power on more than one occasion to defend what was his. 

They were broken out of their thoughts by the deranged man's cheery voice. 

“Good evening, mighty King bla-blabla-bla-bla.” Hennigson mocked. “Let’s make this short shall we? I'm Dr. Hennigsson, acquaintance and servant of your dear brother.”

The pharaoh's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Kahmunrah.

“Kill me then, if you think you can. Come sunrise I will turn to dust regardless.”

Hennigsson chuckled darkly. He wandered back to the shelf and picked up a sharp looking dagger. He made a show of examining it, testing the edge with his thumb. The light glittered along the flat of the blade. 

“I have no intention of killing you, child. That would be too merciful.”

Ahkmenrah stiffened, a fresh wave of fury flashing.

“What do you want with me then, if not my death?” he demande. The dagger swung in his direction and his jaw tightened. But he didn’t flinch away. He wouldn’t give Hennigsson the satisfaction.

Hennigsson hummed and pointed in the direction of the TV screen. “You see all your friends at the Museum over there? They can see you too, so smile!”

Ahkmenrah blinked at the camera.  His eyes seemed to lock with Larry for a brief second. He was putting up a good front, but his friends could see past the mask. Could see the tick of a muscle, the clench of his hands. It was the first time they’d seen the almost unflappable pharaoh well and truly frustrated. He went back to venomously glaring at Hennigsson. 

“What. Do. You. Want?” 

Hennigsson twirled the tip of the blade against his finger, somehow managing to _not_ cut it while he did. “It was because of you that Kahmunrah’s good name was... _sullied_. But you’re no better than him, no matter how many airs you put on. You have _secrets_ …” the malevolence behind the words was an almost palpable thing. It hung heavy in the air between the two. A suffocating curtain of evil intentions. “...Let's see what your friends think of you when I’m finished.” He plucked the tablet off the metal shelf. “Not that you seem to care for them much. You didn’t even ask how all of your friends are still up and about. As alive as one can be in their case. You were all ‘me, me, me’ right from the get go. Really pharaoh, some friend you are! Still, even if you didn’t ask I’ll answer it, if only to put their minds at ease.”

Tablet tucked under one arm, he went to crouch by his visitor. Ahkmenrah eyed him warily. Hennigson smirked. The blade danced through the air without warning. A thin, lurid slice opened up across the young King's wrist. It was over and done in an instant, the cut finished before the victim was even aware a cut was being made.

“Ah!” Ahkmenrah gasped and jerked away. The chains kept him from going very far. They tightened, blood welling to the surface. It flowed freely down his forearm to the pharaoh's elbow. Painted dark red lines along the joint before falling onto the tablet Hennigsson held below.  He whispered a few words in a language Larry didn’t know. 

But given the way Ahkmenrah’s head snapped around, he did.

“Isn't it fascinating, how you are the only exhibit who _bleeds_? I mean technically it makes sense, since you are actually alive and breathing. Unlike the others who are just plastic and wax, who cannot feel  _ pain _ as you can. They’re not alive, not truly. They’re just facsimiles, mimicking life without being able to truly  _ experience _ it.”

Ahkmenrah bared his teeth, furious at the slight to his friends. "They have more _life_ and _heart_ than a bootlicker like you could ever _hope_ to posses."

"I highly doubt that." Hennigsson turned to the screen. “You see Mr. Daley, the spell I used allowed the tablet to extend it's power to a set distance. On a side note: I could just as easily have used a single drop of blood. There’s even a variation that allows for just turning a few blocks and a long string of magical words, and it would work just as well. But where is the fun in that, am I right?” He laughed, the joke far more amusing to him than to his captive audience.

Wincing, Ahkmenrah subtly pulled at his chains. Looking for weaknesses. None presented itself. 

His efforts didn’t go unnoticed. 

Hennigsson dragged his fingers through the blood. Purposefully dabbing it on various tiles to form a pattern that only he understood.

“Yes, I know a lot of things about the tablet” he mused. “A man of my position has access to certain knowledge average humans could not even  _ begin _ to comprehend. Your dear brother told me how to handle it. And you. He was quite specific on the matter.” he smirked.

“Now let the  _ real _ fun begin.”

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments! I hurriedly wrote this one based on a few notes I had.   
> It's almost 3 am here and I'm sickish, so don't search for the plot too far ^^  
> Hope you enjoy the darkness of it.  
> We're all crazy here...  
> hum anyway, enjoy, and review! :)

CHAPTER 5

 

From the moment the first drop of blood was drawn from the Pharaoh, the occupants of the Theater Room started exclaiming their shock and outrage, although still in whispers:

“We can't let the bastard do that!” snapped Jedediah, furious.

“I agree. Let's find this monster and slay his hideous head.” declared Octavius

Attila replied something in Hunic in an out of character resigned tone.

“He's right,” started Sacagawea in a small voice “if we try to interfere, the doctor will kill our friend.” she finished, a single tear sliding down her smooth waxy skin. 

That seemed to 'calm' the exhibits down. Teddy, sitting next to her, reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then turned to Larry, who hadn't said a single word, looking into space.

“Lawrence, are you alright?” he asked “What are you thinking?”

Larry seemed to reluctantly snap out of his daze:

“I just...” he started sadly “I just feel so helpless. It's my fault Ahk was taken, I should've-”

“Stop right there, son. You couldn't have known. None of us could. We'll get him back.” cut in Teddy, feeling guilty himself despite his words.

The Guard sighed.

“Yeah, but at what cost?”

They all looked at each other worryingly, when Dr. Hennigsson's voice cut through their thoughts:

“Did you like my little trick?” he laughed darkly “Plenty more where that came from! Now, I'll let this little chit chat slide this time,” his voice sounded playful, but his eyes were threatening “but if you'd all bring your attention back over here again, the show's about to get real exciting.”

The group grudgingly settled back down from their half raised position, growling their displeasure.  
Upon hearing the Doctor's statement, the Pharaoh looked up. The Museum inhabitants could see the look of anger mixed with shame in the younger man's eyes.  
Hennigsson smiled and walked back to his prisoner, took off the Pharaoh's crown and cape, and threw them aside, adding nonchalantly:

“Wouldn't want those to get dirty now. And besides, in here, you're nothing but a worthless, impotent, frail, little boy.” he snickered

The clench in the young King's jaw was evident. He held the other man's gaze coldly;

“Let me go right now,” started the Egyptian King in a freezing tone “and you may still be spared with only a few limbs missing, you puny *Coptic word for cockroach*.”

A beat of silence.

Then Hennigsson burst out laughing, and abruptly stopped. He suddenly reached out and gripped the Pharaoh's hair, and pulled harder than necessary to tilt Ahkmenrah's head back, who groaned through gritted teeth.

“You don't scare me, boy.” the Doctor sneered, and said a few Coptic words, creating a reddish sand-like flow encircling the young Prince, which immediately earned a jerk and a hiss from the Pharaoh.

“That's more like it. Oh and by the way, I know quite a few curses worse than this one.” Hennigsson grinned, and let go of his victim's hair with a hard shove. 

To his credit, Ahkmenrah kept his head high. 

“So.” started the Doctor, as if he hadn't just performed dark magic, addressing his unwilling audience “I'm going to tell you a story. I think our young friend here knows it already.” He cleared his throat, and continued in a narrator like voice “Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom called Egypt, lived a King and his Queen, with their two sons. Two Princes, who couldn't be more different. The eldest, the Heir, was strong, tenacious, a warrior. Everything Egypt needed as her Ruler. The younger, well, he was more of a small quiet boy, always reading, exploring temples and such. Too juvenile to ever take the Throne. Yet he was their parents' favorite, and was unlawfully given the gift of becoming the future Pharaoh, without the knowledge of the rightful King. And so, later on, naturally, the older brother decided to do something about it, as such as he could reclaim his birthright, and bring the new Pharaoh down a notch for his own satisfaction.”

Realization dawned on Ahkmenrah, his light green eyes widening, as he interrupted:

“Do not continue.” he growled, despite sounding nervous.

Hennigsson hit him with another spell, which made the Pharaoh cry out through clenched teeth, as a pained look adorned his features. The Doctor snapped:  
“You.” Spell “Will.” Spell “Not.” Spell “Interrupt me!” Different spell. The young Prince cried out and jerked violently after each curse, and coughed blood on the last one.  
Hennigsson grinned, admiring his handy-work on the now heaving and panting Ahkmenrah.

“Now where was I? Ah yes. So one night, the older brother told his naive little brother, who still did not know the depth of his older sibling's hatred, to meet him behind one the more lonely temples, away from prying eyes. Of course, it was a trap. But did he kill him? No, not a first. He-” Hennigsson was cut off by the loud rattling of chains behind him.

“NO! NOT ANOTHER WORD!” yelled the Pharaoh, blood still dripping from his chin.

The Doctor laughed:

“What's stopping me?” he sneered “Not you with that attitude.”

Knowing full well what the man was expecting of him, the young Prince took a few ragged breaths, head down, fists clenched:

“Please.” he started, his voice betraying his pain and desperation “Do not tell them. They cannot know this- my shame.” he inhaled sharply “Whatever it is you wish to do to me, I will take it. But please, they- they mustn't know.” His eyes, raised only enough to meet the Doctor's own sadistic ones, were shining with mortification.

A moment of silence, then:

“Thank you for yet another display of weakness, little Pharaoh.” said Hennigsson joyfully, walking over to one of the portable cameras, turning it on making it the main screen, and bringing it to a close up of Ahkmenrah's back.  
Hennigsson discarded the plate/ornament covering the Pharaoh's shoulder blades. There, in the middle, laid an angry looking old, white with age, scar.  
The Doctor pressed his free hand on the shaking skin, gaining a loud gasp from its owner.

“See, Mr. Daley and co, this scar was made by Kahmunrah, as he-”

“STOP!” shouted the Pharaoh “Stop please! Don't-” he was cut off by yet another spell, more vicious than the other ones so far, choking on a cry. 

More blood passed though his lips, running down his chin and throat.

Hennigsson with a sigh, turned the main camera back on, and crouched down next to the shivering man:

“Stubborn boy.” he drawled “Next time you interrupt me,” he caressed the Pharaoh's cheek, who immediately recoiled, “I'll do to you what he did, three times harder. Got it?”

Tears welled up in the young Prince's frantic eyes, as Hennigsson started licking up the Pharaoh's blood soaked throat.

 

TBC


	5. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Thank you for the positive feedback and your well being wishes!  
> Here's (another) small chapter. Let me know if you think I should start on the aftermath now in the next chapter, or if you sadistic bastards want some more yummy torture ^^
> 
> So I wanted Ahk to speak a bit in his native language, but since I dunno jack sheite on Coptic, I just inserted phonetic Arabic. Screw it :)  
> Enjoy!!

CHAPTER 6:

 

The Pharaoh whimpered, trying to get away from the Doctor's unwanted attention. But he couldn't, held in place by Hennigsson's vice grip in his hair again. Suddenly:

“STOP!” shouted Larry, who had abruptly stood up.

Hennigsson pulled away from the Pharaoh and sneered:

“You will keep silent!” he grabbed his dagger, pushing it against Ahkmenrah's throat “Or I will slice the boy's head off!”

Larry, realizing his impulsive mistake, quickly sat back down, gripping his chair as if trying to choke the crazed man responsible for the torture of his friend.

“Good, Mr. Daley, you understand.” he paused, considering “However, I already gave you a warning, haven't I?” he asked rhetorically, a smirk playing on his lips.

Then, as quick as lightning, Hennigsson slid the dagger across Ahkmenrah's chest, making a deep gash. 

 

The young Prince let out an agonizing scream, as blood started flowing freely from the wound.

 

The Doctor laughed sardonically, before putting aside his weapon and partially closing up the cut with a spell:

“Wouldn't want you to pass out now.” he said, mostly to himself, while giving the Pharaoh a good once over, pupils dilating.

“Don't you look beautiful like this, mighty King.” he said, his voice deep “Such a weak thing, aren't you?”

The Pharaoh's eyes turned glassy, unfocused.

“Aren't you, boy!” Hennigsson exclaimed loudly, slapping Ahkmenrah hard on the back of the head.

“Stop this, Kah!” yelled suddenly the young King, a haunted look in his eyes.

The Doctor barked a laugh, and addressed Larry and the sick looking Museum's exhibits:

“Look, Mr. Daley and co, he's all confused. How pathetic!”

He circled around the Pharaoh briefly, grinning like a maniac.

“The human brain does amazing things on a daily basis,” started Hennigsson “but when in a state of trauma, it can act quite spectacularly.” He once again grabbed a fistful of the young King's hair, pulling backwards, earning a whine from his victim.  
Smirking, the Doctor continued:

“Can you see how our young friend here seems out of it at the moment?” he snapped his free fingers in front of Ahkmenrah's unblinking wide eyes, obtaining no reaction what-so-ever “His brain is currently replaying the story I've been forever trying to tell you. Isn't that just fascinating? That something as simple as a sound, a touch, or even a word, can elicit such a reaction?”

He coughed dramatically, and started speaking with a lisp, a perfect imitation of Kahmunrah:

“Why should I stop, little brother?”

Ahkmenrah, while still seemingly stuck in the past, answered nonetheless, with a trembling voice:

“I-It is w-wrong. What you are d-doing is wrong!”

The Doctor turned to his public, stage whispering:

“It seems our dear Pharaoh will tell you the rest of the story himself.”

Larry and the others were confused. Angry, disgusted with the mad man, but also confused.   
Yet, in Larry's stomach, a weight a settled in. 'It couldn't be, could it?' he thought with dread.

Dr. Hennigsson spoke in his lisp 'accent' again:

“And exactly what is it I am doing that is so wrong?”

Ahkmenrah visibly swallowed and gave a full body shudder, making his chains rattle slightly.

“Th-the way you are t-touching m-me.” he whispered. Yet to everyone in the Theater Room it sounded like a gunshot. The silence that followed was deafening. 

“No...” choked out Larry.

That seemed to shake everyone out of their stupor; Sacagawea started crying. Teddy turned sickly white. The others started cursing and admirably managed to contain tears of anger. And was that the sound of someone emptying their stomachs?  
Their attention was called back to the horror on the screen when Hennigsson spoke again:

“Oh, you mean,” he crouched down next to the young Prince “like this?” he finished as he grabbed Ahkmenrah's crotch.

The young Pharaoh cried out and struggled anew.

“Lā tilmisni! (Don't touch me!) Min fadlak! (Please!) An-najda! (Help!)” he screamed, fresh tears sliding down his flushed cheeks. 

Dr. Hennigsson laughed, released his grip, and stood.

“Mr. Daley, if you would kindly break the pleasant memory our guest is honor is reliving? We must get a move on.”


	6. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile ^^

Hi guys!

Sorry for not updating in like 4 months or so.   
I just couldn't put anything down on paper (or keyboard in this case). Still can't actually.  
So I'm officially abandoning this story, as I feel my inspiration as left me. That and I'm starting my military service next week, so I'm definitely not gonna get enough free time for this ^^ or wifi... oh Satan how am I gonna survive?! 

...

Anywho, if someone were to find themselves compelled to write their own 'continue' of this story, I'd be delighted! I'd follow it! 

Thank you guys so much for kudosing, commenting, and supporting this story! I loved reading what you thought about it. You gave me great joy and confidence ♡

Live Long & Prosper, my friends.


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